


Done With Being Useless

by eprnam



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Gen, Hurt Sheriff, Hurt Stiles, Stilinski Family Feels, set right after s03e09, spoilers for The Girl Who Knew Too Much, with a bat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eprnam/pseuds/eprnam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is going to save his dad, even if he has to do it alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Done With Being Useless

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I really just want Stiles to take that bitch down for everything she has done, and because I needed him to save the Sheriff.
> 
> So in the unfortunately likely event that neither of these actually occurs in the show, I'll at least have this.
> 
> Hope you like it~

Stiles was done.

He was done being weak and he was done having to watch from the sidelines as the people he cared about, the people he loved, got hurt.

He had thought that maybe it could be enough at first. Researching and investigating the Darach. That maybe if he just figured out the patterns and who was going to be attacked next, he might be able to do something.

Anything.

To stop people from dying.

By some miracle, (and he could really use a few more of those, if anyone's listening) him and Lydia were able to save Scott, Boyd and Ethan from being sacrificed. But that didn't change the fact that his best friend almost killed himself because of some hallucinogenic wolfsbane. Or that Boyd was killed a few days later anyway by alphas while, ironically, everyone was protecting the _Darach_.

And wasn't _that_ a surprise.

Though maybe it shouldn't have been, considering Derek's life, the fact that his new girlfriend turned out to be evil wasn't that farfetched.

But Stiles hadn't even suspected her, hadn't even thought of the possibility, hadn't realized until it was too late.

And now, Lydia was hurt. Had almost been killed.

And now...

That thing had his dad.

His _dad._

Stiles thought that he had been protecting him by hiding all the crazy supernatural stuff going on, and he thought he was warning him when he finally got around to telling the truth for once, but it hadn't made a difference.

Nothing he did made a difference.

And he was done.

Stiles stared out the broken window, feeling numb.

He was vaguely aware of Scott rushing over to check on Lydia, and telling him she was okay. But while Stiles cared a lot about Lydia Martin's continued existence, it was not his primary concern at the moment.

Finally managing to break his gaze from the window, Stiles turned his attention to where his dad had last been and slowly walked over.

There was some blood on the floor that Stiles couldn't bear to look at for more than a few seconds, because _god_ , his dad had been stabbed, his dad was hurt, and he couldn't help him. Stiles wanted to cry, he wanted to scream that none of this was fair, that this wasn't supposed to happen.

He wanted his mom.

But she was gone, and now, so was his dad.

But Stiles was done being useless, and he was going to get. Him. Back.

With that thought and determination and anger swirling in his gut, he crouched down, grabbed his dad's service pistol, put on the safety, and walked silently out of the school to his car, ignoring Scott's calls behind him.

Stiles put the gun in the glove compartment, pulled out of the parking lot, and headed straight to Deaton's. He didn't know if he was there, he wasn't even sure he wasn't still in the hospital. But Stiles knew where the keys were, if he wasn't. He didn't know what his plan was if he couldn't interrogate the Vet, but Stiles was not waiting around anymore. He was going to save his dad with our without help.

By some stroke of luck, the lights were on inside when Stiles pulled up to the clinic.

Deaton was waiting for Stiles when he walked inside.

"You knew I was coming." Stiles said, not bothering to question how the man always seemed to know everything.

" I did." Deaton said calmly.

"Then you know what happened and what I want." Stiles said with a touch of irritation creeping into his voice, he didn't have time for the half truths and cryptic advice Deaton was so fond of.

"Stiles... what you want, I may not be able to give you." Deaton replied calmly. And Stiles couldn't deal with how unaffected he was when Stiles'  only remaining family had been abducted by a supernatural serial killer right in front of him.

"She took my dad!" Stiles yelled. "You said that I had a spark, and if that's all I have, then  I'll take it. But I don't even know what that means! I research for days, and learn everything about everything I can, but I still feel like I don't know anything. But you do. You know it all, you just never freaking tell us! But I can't just accept that anymore, because this is my _dad_ we're talking about. I was supposed to protect him from all this crap. I failed, and now I need to fix it. He saved your life, and I need your help to save his.”

Deaton stared at Stiles for a minute before sighing quietly.

"I'll help you as much as I can. Unfortunately not much is known about dark druids." Deaton said.

 "All I want to know is how do I find it, and how do I kill it."

Deaton leveled a look at Stiles and replied, "As far as I can tell, the only thing that can hurt the Darach, is white oak."

"So, what? We find a white oak, whittle up some stakes and stab it in the heart original vampire style and that's it?" Stiles asked sarcastically. But Deaton just continued like he hadn't spoken.

"White oak renders the Darach powerless for a brief period of time, taking away it's magic and allowing it to be killed by normal means."

"Like a bullet in the face?" Stiles asked.

"Essentially, yes."     

"Great, now tell me where to get the white oak and how to find the Darach so I can go save my dad."

"Stiles, you can't just rush into this, you need to think about this rationally. I know this time is different because it's your father, but that's all the more reason for a plan. If you don't do this right, it's going to get both you _and_ your dad killed. I'm aware that time is also limited, but I am confident that you have at least three days to prepare." Deaton held up a hand to stop Stiles from interrupting and continued, "These things always work in threes. Now, the white oak, there just so happens to be one in Beacon Hills, and I also have quite a bit white oak ash in my possession that you are welcome to." Deaton finished.

"But none of that matters if I can't find her." Stiles said desperately.

"Finding the Darach and by extension, your father, may actually be the simplest part in all of this. You have a Spark Stiles, and you can use it to find your dad. All you have to do is believe you can find him, and you will. I know it might sound unbelievable, but because of your blood relation and the bond you two share, finding your father will be simple."

Stiles stared at Deaton skeptically, but this was literally all he had to go on at this point, and he was going to take whatever he could get.

Deaton then went into the back room and returned a minute later with a jar of white ash.

Stiles took the jar from Deaton, and wrote down the location of the white oak tree before turning around and walking toward the door only to pause a second later.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome Mr. Stilinski."

Stiles was halfway out the door when Deaton called his name, making him pause again.

"Be careful." Deaton said softly.

Stiles managed a short nod before going to his car and driving away, plans already forming in his mind.

-

Stiles didn't leave his room much the next two days.

After the visit to Deaton, he had stopped hope briefly to look something up online and grab some tools, then headed straight to the white oak tree and returned two hours later with a large branch and roots from the tree.

The only other time he actually left the house was when he went to the post office to mail a large package.

The rest of the time he spent preparing and researching.

He ignored his phone and anyone who came to the door, he felt more focused then he had in his whole life.

Everything was ready the third morning.

He had woven bracelets out of the white oak roots that would hopefully prevent the Darach from working any magic on him, filled shotgun shells with the ash, loaded his dad's gun with copper ammo, because even if he couldn't find anything saying it had any effect on druids, it killed trees, and Deaton said Darach mean Dark Oak, and whatever, it's not like it would hurt to try. The rest of the ash was wrapped in a pouch so he would have it, just in case. He also had a dagger. He wasn't taking any chances.

Now all he had to do was wait.

When a package arrived that afternoon, he knew it was time.

Stiles pulled out the newly crafted white oak bat, grabbed his bag and walked outside.

Scott was waiting for him by the Jeep.

"What are you doing Stiles. I've been calling you for days, you haven't been in school, we're all worried about you." Scott said.

"I'm getting my dad back, I'm going to find that bitch, and when I do, I'm going to kill her." Stiles replied calmly in spite of his words. Scott looked a bit shocked at his response, but instead of trying to stop him like Stiles thought he might, he just said, "Then I'm coming with you."

And Stiles wanted to argue and say that this was his fight, that he _needed_ to do this, but he knew he had to take all the help he could get, so he managed a smile and a jerky nod at Scott. "Then let's do this."

They climbed into the Jeep and Stiles just drove.

Scott didn't ask how he knew where to go, and Stiles wouldn't have known how to answer him anyway. He just thought of his dad, and drove, believing completely that wherever they ended up would be where his dad was.

They arrived 45 minutes later at a large abandoned warehouse, which let's face it, was highly expected, fights with the big bad of the week always happened somewhere abandoned, might as well be a warehouse and go for the full cliché. Stiles _is_ just a tiny bit surprised they didn't end up at the school though, if he's honest.

He slipped a root bracelet onto each of his wrists and gave one of the extras to Scott, tucked his dad's service pistol into his waistband, slipped the dagger and the pouch of ash into his pockets, grabbed his bat, and after a moments deliberation, handed the shotgun to Scott, who definitely had better aim.

"Are they in there?" Stiles asked. He needed to be sure.

"Yeah." Scott replied quietly.

"Then let's go."

They both walked toward the warehouse, weapons in hand, Stiles walked in first, closely followed by Scott. The room the entered was empty, and there was no sign of his dad or the Darach anywhere.

"Which way?" Stiles asked Scott grimly.

"Down that way." Scott nodded to a hallway on the right.

They made their way quietly, listening for any hint that the Darach had realized they were here, but everything was perfectly silent. Then they turned a corner, and the sight in front of them made Stiles freeze. He couldn't stop the sharp gasp he made either.

His dad was slumped against the wall, with his hands tied behind his back. His uniform shirt was bloody, but at least the knife was gone. His head hung down on his chest, and he looked defeated.

At Stiles gasp, his head shot up and his bloodshot eyes widened. He looked scared, but not for himself, he looked scared for his son, his 16 year old son that had just willingly walked into the lair of a sacrificial serial killer armed with a bat.

"Stiles! Get out of here!" the sheriff croaked desperately.

And that's when _she_ walked into the room, Jennifer Blake, the Darach.

"Finally decided to show up did you? I was beginning to worry you wouldn't. All I've had for company these last few days was the sheriff here, and he hasn't been very fun at all." She said sweetly, reaching over and patting his dad on the head.

That's when Stiles saw red.

He rushed into the room, bat held high and headed straight for Jennifer, ignoring Scott calling him frantically and his dad yelling at him to stop. Jennifer had calmly walked to the center of the room and facing Stiles, held her palm up.

Stiles felt a breeze whip past him, and briefly saw a look of surprise on Jennifer's face, before he swung his bat and, with a swell of malicious satisfaction, felt it connect with the side of her head.

There was a moment of shocked silence as she fell to the ground, even she looked up at him, face bloody, like she couldn't actually believe he had done that, and that it actually hurt.

Stiles shot a grin at Scott and finally realized he was still on the other side of the doorway.

Then Jennifer started to laugh and Stiles quickly returned his attention to her.

"Well _Stiles,_ I honestly didn't think you had it in you. Good job figuring out the White Oak thing, had a little help from Deaton did you? Ah well, I knew you would show up of course, always trying to save the day. You're almost as bad as Scott is, wanting to save everyone. And that was _exactly_ what I was counting on." Jennifer said, gracefully standing up.

"What are you talking about?" Stiles growled. He wanted to hit her again, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

"You Stiles, are the final piece of the puzzle. The final sacrifice. Because you, are everything in one adorable plaid covered package. The philosopher, the healer, the warrior, the guardian, the _virgin._ And the perfect way to get you here alone was to take your father. _And_ in the event that you did bring someone along, a little mountain ash would stop them from being too much of a nuisance."

"But I'm not even half of those things!" Stiles yelled, angry that his dad was taken just to get to him.

"Oh it's all a lot more symbolic than it is literal." Jennifer smirked, and before Stiles could even process this new information, she pounced.

The bat was knocked out of his hands as he fell to the floor with her on top of him, trying to wrap a cord around his neck. Stiles heard his name being shouted, but he focused on Jennifer and managed to kick her off.

Stiles jumped to his feet and ran for the bat, but before he was able to grab it, Jennifer was back. He fell face down onto the floor with her once again on top of him. When he tried to buck her off, Jennifer grabbed his hair and smashed Stiles head into the floor and in his pain induced daze, she was able to succeed in getting the cord around his neck.

Stiles felt his air supply being cut off, and resumed his struggle. But it was no use, just because her magic didn't work on him, didn't mean she wasn't strong. All Stiles could do was paw weakly at the cord and attempt to gasp in air as blood trickled sluggishly down his face.

Stiles was about to give up, when with a loud bang, Jennifer and the cord fell off, allowing him to gulp in mouthfuls of air. Looking up, he saw Scott still pointing the shotgun at Jennifer.

"You alright Stiles?" Scott asked worriedly, looking over at him.

Stiles coughed and managed a weak thumbs up before reaching over, grabbing his bat and standing up to face the Darach once again.

He swayed slightly on his feet, but Jennifer wasn't looking that great herself. She had fallen to her knees and was looking up at him with anger and hatred swirling in her eyes.

"White oak bullets. _Really?_ " She snarled in irritation.

"Really, really." Stiles replied calmly, slowly walking over to her, and with not even a hint of remorse, he swung the bat repeatedly into the side of her head. On the fifth swing, and with blood covering her face, she finally fell onto her back and looked up at him. There was blood in her mouth when she smiled nastily at him.

"You going to kill me little boy?" She asked with venom dripping off every word.

Stiles stared down at her, face blank. He dropped the bloody bat on the ground, pulled out his dad's gun, flipped off the safety and pointed it at her head.

He wanted to do it, he wanted to end it all right now, to take this bitch down for what she did, and what she tried to do. Stiles at this moment, didn't think he had ever hated someone so much in his life, and Stiles hated a _lot_ of people. He hadn't really thought this part out though, the killing someone part. Stiles was going to _kill_ her, and he wanted to- no, needed to. She deserved it. There was a part of him though, not overcome with anger and seeking revenge, that wished he wasn't the one who had to do it. But after everything, he couldn't just let her go.

 His finger moved on the trigger.

"STILES!" His dad shouted, making him pause and look over at him.

His dad looked scared again, but this time it was because he was about to watch his son become a killer, and Stiles hated seeing that look directed at him. But he couldn't stop.

"I need to do this dad." Stiles said quietly, and a bit shaky.

"Son! Listen to me, you don't have to this, it's not your responsibility, and it's not you." His dad pleaded.

"I just wanted you to keep you safe, this whole time, that's all I wanted. And I couldn't even do that." Stiles cried weakly, feeling his eyes start to water.

"Aw is the little virgin going to cry?" Jennifer sneered.

Stiles turned his attention back to her and felt the anger rise up again.

"SHUT UP!" Stiles yelled, lowering the gun and with no more than a seconds hesitation, shot her in the knee.

Her scream filled him with a morbid feeling of glee, and he returned his aim to her head.

"Stiles!" His dad yelled again, but Stiles ignored him, finger twitching on the trigger.

"Son, I'm sorry." His dad said sadly, and that shocked Stiles enough that he looked over at his dad with wide glassy eyes.

"What?" Stiles croaked, breath hitching.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you. You tried to open up to me, you finally explained what's been going on with you this past year, and I didn't believe you and I'm _sorry._ You shouldn't have to protect me Stiles, you're my son. I'm supposed to protect _you_."

"You're all I have left." Stiles cried, and a few tears slid down his face.

"And you, are all _I_ have left." His dad replied fiercely. "You did good son, but it's enough. Now put the gun down, and come untie me. Then we can get out of here and deal with her."

Stiles swallowed, blinked back tears, and slowly put the gun back in his waistband.

He looked back down at Jennifer and she looked up at him, a dark smile on her face.

"So the little boy who cried wolf got his daddy to believe him, but he's not man enough to finish the job?" Jennifer asked cruelly. She opened her mouth to speak again, but all that came out was a pained gasp because before she had been able to utter a single word Stiles pulled the dagger from his pocket and plunged it deep into her right shoulder.

"I may not be planning on killing you anymore, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be nice." Stiles said calmly, pulling out the pouch of ash from his pocket and creating a circle around her. The small handful he had left, he smeared into the bullet wound in her knee that had yet to heal. Maybe it was the copper, maybe it was the white oak, he didn't really care, but her pain filled scream did cheer him up a bit.

With that done he quickly broke the mountain ash line, letting Scott in and instructing him to watch Jennifer, before he ran over to his dad. Stiles had a little trouble with the ropes, because his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

As soon as his dad was untied, his arms pulled free and immediately wrapped themselves around Stiles . Stiles fell heavily into his dads embrace, gripped his uniform tightly in his fists and just barely managed to hold back the sobs threatening to come out.

"God, Stiles, don't you _ever_ scare me like that again." His dad said fiercely, hugging Stiles even tighter.

"I'm sorry." Stiles mumbled into his dad's shoulder.

"It's alright son, everything is alright now."

Stiles knew that it really wasn't, so much still had to be dealt with before anything would be alright. They still needed to deal with the Alphas, to figure out what was wrong with Cora, and they needed to figure out what they were going to do with Jennifer.

But right now, held tightly in his dad's arms, listening to his beating and _alive_ heart, because Stiles had been able to do something, had been able to save the person he cared about most. Stiles thought that maybe, just maybe, everything _would_ eventually be alright.

But for today,

Stiles was done.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware the the custom bat thing is rather far fetched, and the cost for such a speedy order (if it was even possible) would be ridiculous, but I just really wanted him to have a white oak bat.
> 
> I saw a post on tumblr that was saying Stiles could be the final sacrifice cause he could be considered to be in each category, so I used that in here.
> 
> This is the first thing I've written in forever, and it's also the first Teen Wolf fic I've ever written. I think it turned out alright though.  
> I didn't have a beta, so any mistakes are mine.
> 
> I would love to hear what you thought~


End file.
